The Smell of Roses
by a-word-nerd
Summary: Finnick returns from an appointment in the Capitol to find Annie missing. His frantic attempts to find her lead them both to a test that could destroy even the strongest of bonds.
1. Chapter 1

Finnick didn't think he'd ever be free from the scent of roses. The sickly sweet smell of the Capitol and its president seemed to be crawling under his skin like a bunch of insects, and no amount of scrubbing could erase it. He was stuck with it, just like he was stuck with his role as the Capitol's plaything. On his way back to District Four now, still feeling slightly nauseated from the combination of the roses and the people whose company had been forced on him the night before, he longed for only one thing more than the familiar scent of saltwater. Annie.

It didn't matter how many appointments in the Capitol he took. It didn't matter how many times he walked out the door, on his way to a hell on earth where he had to pretend to love someone who wasn't Annie Cresta. It would never get easier to watch her try valiantly to hide the expression of heartbreak that crumpled her face every time she knew he had to leave. It killed him every single time he had to leave her. But he also wasn't stupid—he understood that the appointments he took in the Capitol were a necessary evil. As long as he held up the charming façade that had the disgustingly wealthy Capitol citizens reaching for their wallets, President Snow remained content and Annie stayed safe. And that was the only reason it was worth it.

Stepping out of the gleaming limousine that had brought him home, he sucked in a welcomed breath of air that smelled like air and not perfume, that wasn't polluted by the stench of sex and roses. As difficult as leaving District Four always was, coming back was just as sweet.

Climbing the well-manicured steps that led up to the front door of his house in the district's Victor's Village, Finnick began to feel alive again knowing that Annie was just on the other side of that door. There really wasn't a point in the two of them each having their own house; they both spent all of their time in one house or the other. Annie always stayed in his while he was gone. She said it was because he had a better view of the sea out his back porch, but he suspected that it just helped ease the sting of loneliness.

"Annie?" He called out, entering and shutting the door behind him. No immediate response; he figured she just hadn't heard him. "Annie, I'm home!"

Still nothing. That was odd; usually she knew exactly when he was going to be home and made a point of being there to greet him. Of course, it was possible she had just gone for a walk or to visit Mags.

"Annie!" He called out once more. Then he stopped and listened. The house rang with an almost eerie silence, the kind that typically announced emptiness. She wasn't here. He knew there was probably a perfectly logical explanation for her absence, but that didn't stop a chill from running down his spine despite the balmy spring weather. Something wasn't right.

He nervously made his way back out the door and down the steps, heading across the street to her house. Maybe she had gone home to get something to eat; she was always teasing him about how bad he was at keeping up on grocery shopping. But he didn't even have to knock on the door to know she wasn't there—the windows were dark. Annie always kept lights on.

Feeling increasingly uneasy, he jogged over to Mags' house and bounded up the stairs two at a time before knocking on her door rather insistently. She must have been sitting in the living room, which was right at the front of the house, because she came to the door quickly. "Finnick," she greeted him with a smile, leaning on her cane.

"Hello, Mags," said Finnick, wringing his hands nervously. "You wouldn't happen to know where Annie is, would you? I can't seem to find her."

Mags frowned, shaking her head. "I thought…your house." Her speech was still a bit garbled due to the stroke she had suffered.

"No, she's not there," Finnick replied. "She's not at her house either. I have no idea where she is. If you see her, could you please tell her to find me?"

Mags nodded, looking slightly worried.

Finnick said a hasty goodbye to Mags and sprinted back to his house. Maybe Annie had left a note and he just hadn't seen it. But a frenzied search of the kitchen and living room produced no results, and the house was still just as scarily quiet.

"ANNIE!" He shouted, now overcome by worry.

And that's when he smelled the roses.

Sickened and nearly paralyzed with the unadulterated fear that signs of the Capitol in his home district never failed to induce in him, he followed the too-sweet scent up to the bedroom, where it was so strong that he half expected to find President Snow's snakelike eyes glaring at him from behind the door. What he did find was the familiar dreaded cardstock that always bore his "invitations" to the Capitol—except this time it was accompanied by a single white rose.

_Finnick-_

_A bit distracted, are we? You seem to have missed an appointment last night. My client is most displeased. I insist upon your immediate return to the Capitol to compensate for your mistake. Do so, and you will find what you're looking for. If you choose not to cooperate, I daresay Miss Cresta would be happy to share your workload with you._

_Regards,_

_President Coriolanus Snow_

Finnick, after allowing himself a split second of frozen horror, was back down the stairs and out the door before the note had fluttered to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Alright, you guys got your wish! I've decided to continue this story and make it my project until the summer when I start my long Odesta story (which my best friend and I have affectionately dubbed "The Beast" because I have plans for it to be quite long). I've written up a game plan for this one, and it'll have five chapters when it's finished. One chapter a week will take me right up until the end of my semester. So, without further ado, I present to you the second chapter of my first ever multi-chapter fanfiction. Enjoy. :)

Annie had seen the Presidential Mansion on her Victory Tour, but she had never been inside it. She had never had felt even the slightest bit of desire to go inside it, and yet, here she was. She sat on a heavily cushioned bench outside a room that, based off the information she had been able to piece together thus far, seemed to be President Snow's private study. Twiddling her thumbs, she examined the immaculately decorated hallway she sat in. Several crystal chandeliers loomed over her from the high ceiling. The windows overlooking the courtyard in which Capitol parties were regularly hosted were framed with crimson curtains. The set of French doors to her left that led into the study bore a large, bronze seal of Panem. Annie gulped nervously at the sight of it.

She didn't have even the faintest idea why she had been brought here. It had all happened very quickly—a troop of Peacekeepers had showed up at the door of Finnick's house in 4, demanding that she step onto the porch with her hands over her head. Annie, too stunned to even consider not cooperating, did as she was told and very rapidly found herself in a car zooming towards the Capitol. They had brought her here and told her to sit silently. Despite her apparent willingness to do what they asked, the Peacekeepers had still deemed it necessary to leave a guard at each end of the hallway where she sat. The entire ordeal had only taken about an hour at most, and so Annie sat outside President Snow's private study under the watchful eyes of two Peacekeepers, waiting to find out why her day had been so rudely interrupted.

"Yes, certainly, ma'am. I assure you that my displeasure equals your own."

Though it was a bit difficult to hear through the door, Annie knew that voice. Snow was talking to someone, presumably on the phone since there was no audible response to his words, and he didn't sound happy.

"Mr. Odair is being summoned back to the Capitol immediately. This blunder will be more than made up for and will certainly not happen again."

Annie frowned. Blunder? Finnick had made a mistake? Doing what? She didn't know much, if anything, about why he reported to the Capitol so often or what he did while he was there. He didn't seem to enjoy talking about it, so she had never pressed the issue with him.

"You see, we've given him a healthy dose of…incentive," Snow said. "The Cresta girl…"

Annie's head turned sharply toward the door. She had definitely heard her name. What is going on?

Snow's words were indiscernible for another fifteen seconds or so, and then she heard him end the conversation.

"Thank you for understanding, ma'am. Rest assured that this shall not be a regular occurrence."

Silence. She could hear footsteps approaching the door. Then the seal of Panem broke in two as the French doors parted, revealing the snakelike eyes and sinister grin of President Coriolanus Snow.

"Miss Cresta," he said tightly, his grin remaining despite his slightly narrowed eyes. "Please, come in."

Trying not to make it obvious that she was shaking like a leaf, Annie slowly got to her feet and entered the study. Her fear was momentarily put on hold by astonishment at the appearance of the study—it was at least as elaborately decorated as the hallway. Another chandelier, bigger than the ones outside, hung over her head and cast a slight glow on the dark wood desk. She couldn't help but notice the very poignant smell of roses permeating the room.

She was snapped out of her brief trance by the sound of the doors shutting behind her. She turned to face Snow, who began to stride slowly around to the back of his desk. Once he got there, he began sorting papers. Annie stood, stiff as a board, in the middle of the huge room. She didn't dare speak before he did.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Cresta?" Snow asked softly once he seemed satisfied with the way his desk was arranged.

Annie forced herself to speak in a steady voice. "I can't say I do, sir."

The ghost of a grin flitted across Snow's face. "We seem to have a bit of a dilemma on our hands."

"We do?" Annie said.

"Yes." Snow put both hands on his desk, leaning forward slightly. "Your dear Mr. Odair has made a rather unfortunate mistake. You see, he was scheduled for an appointment with one of my highest paying clients last night, and it seemed to have…slipped his mind." He stared very intently at Annie, who felt quite strongly that she was missing something.

After a split second of deliberation, Annie decided not to start asking questions right away. "D-did he? I'm…sure he didn't mean to." The response sounded pathetic, even to her.

Snow laughed under his breath. "I think you and I both know very well that that's not the point, Miss Cresta," he said. "I'm sure you know what's at stake here. I suppose I should ask: would you like to share Mr. Odair's workload with him?"

Annie couldn't skate through that one. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Snow's eyebrows shot almost all the way up into his shock of white hair. "Come again?"

Annie blinked, convinced that she had misunderstood something. "I…don't know what you're talking about. What workload?"

Snow looked shell shocked for a split second, and then adopted a look of something resembling amusement. "Oh, dear, we do have a situation on our hands…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sit down, Miss Cresta."

Annie did so cautiously, beginning to get quite nervous. There had obviously been a breakdown in communication somewhere, and she had a strong hunch that it was because Finnick had kept something from her.

Snow, now sitting in his desk chair, folded his hands on the desk in front of him and stared Annie straight in the eye. She only just barely suppressed a shudder.

"Don't you ever wonder what Mr. Odair does when he comes here to the Capitol on business?" Snow asked.

"I—yes, I suppose, but I don't…I try not to pry." Annie replied, feeling like she was walking through traffic wearing a blindfold.

"You try not to pry…" Snow repeated under his breath. Then, a little louder, "I suppose it's for the best. It's not a brand of business that's particularly conducive to…romantic relationships." He paused, very briefly, and then continued. "You see, Mr. Odair and I have worked out a sort of agreement. I have to keep the citizens of the Capitol happy and I also have to make a profit to keep the Hunger Games getting bigger and better every year. That's where you young, attractive victors come in. People here are willing to dole out very generous amounts of cash in exchange for a bit of enjoyment."

Annie was beginning to put the pieces together in her head. Finnick's reluctance to divulge details about his trips to the Capitol. The solemn looks she would catch him exchanging with Mags before he left. The odd scents of perfume that often clung to him when he came home. Annie had thought nothing of it because she remembered those smells from her own time in the Capitol, and she just figured they stuck to people. But she had obviously been horribly blind to whatever was really happening. There was something very, very wrong going on here.

"What are you doing to him?" She asked Snow in a horrified whisper.

Snow gave her another one of his poisonous grins. "I think I'll let him tell you that story himself."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Here's the next chapter, as promised! This one was tough to write, especially at the end. It's not particularly cheerful. But don't worry, I have it all planned out. :)

Fear was an emotion that Finnick was extremely familiar with. After all, he had survived the Hunger Games. Anyone who had survived the Hunger Games was inevitably going to be well acquainted with fear. As if that wasn't enough, Finnick had received threats from President Snow himself and been forced to sell his body to complete strangers on a regular basis. He had thought he knew what fear was, until today.

Finnick felt that he could compete in a thousand Hunger Games and not even come close to feeling as sickened with terror as he did right now. Annie was in the Capitol. The Capitol had taken Annie. Because of him. Because of his stupid, stupid mistake.

_They're hurting her. They've got to be hurting her to get back at me and it's my fault, it's all my fault…Annie, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…_

Those were the only coherent thoughts that Finnick could form as the train he had caught from District 4 sped through Panem. He could only sit in his seat, frozen with horror, clenching and unclenching his fists in a futile effort to keep his hands busy. It wasn't a long ride to the Capitol, especially by train, but every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. Every minute that passed was another minute that those wretched people could be torturing Annie, and there was nothing, nothing, _nothing_ he could do.

He hardly registered the train's arrival at Capitol Station. He was barely aware of his own feet moving to carry him off the train and onto the platform. He knew where he had to go. There had been no address printed on the note, no instructions as to what to do when he got here, but he knew. Before he could stop himself, he was dodging people left and right as he sprinted through the train station and out into Capitol Square. Once he was outside, he made a beeline for the president's mansion.

XxXxXxX

Finnick realized that he probably looked like a madman, having run through traffic and nearly knocked over some unsuspecting pedestrians on his frantic journey from the train station to Snow's mansion. The fact that he was now standing on the grandly decorated doorstep, practically breaking down the gold-plated door after having breezed by the security guards at the front gate, wasn't helping matters. He would stand here all day if he had to. He had to find Annie. He _had_ to.

If there was anything at that moment that could have made Finnick freeze in his tracks, however, it was President Snow himself coming to the door to greet him, and that was exactly what happened. Finnick stood, rooted to the spot, his hand still held in the air like he was winding up for another pound on the door. Snow surveyed him carefully—his windswept hair, red face, and wild, panicked eyes—before crossing his arms over his chest and giving just a hint of a smirk.

"Mr. Odair," he said coolly. "How kind of you to join us."

Finnick gulped, slowly lowering his hand. "Us…?" he asked weakly.

"Oh, yes, indeed." Snow's snakelike eyes stared into Finnick's worried green ones. "Miss Cresta is most anxious to see you. Allow me to lead you to my private study."

Feeling like someone had filled his shoes with lead, Finnick forced himself to take one shaky step after another until he was inside the grandiose mansion. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, which struck him as odd: the last time he had been here, there had been a number of brightly colored maids and butchers milling around the many floors of the house.

He didn't dare ask any questions or make any more noise than was necessary. He couldn't even look at Snow. He could only follow him robotically up the magnificent spiral staircase, wanting to know what he would find up in the study and yet feeling terrified of what it might be. _Please, please, don't hurt her…you better not have hurt her…hurt me instead…it's my fault…_

He only looked up when Snow pulled open a set of enormous French doors that displayed a large, gold seal of Panem. And there she was. Annie sat in a chair in front of Snow's desk, looking shaken but otherwise unharmed. She turned slightly in her chair and her eyes briefly met Finnick's. A million different things were communicated between them in those few seconds, none of which could quite be translated into words.

Snow strode around to the back of his desk and sat down. Finnick didn't dare approach Annie, but he wasn't sure where to go. He settled for hovering by the corner of the desk, far enough away from her to keep Snow comfortable.

"So…" Snow said softly after a very pregnant pause. "We seem to have a bit of a situation on our hands." Neither Annie nor Finnick spoke, so he continued. "Mr. Odair made a rather grave mistake while on his latest…business trip to the Capitol. Miss Cresta was brought here, as I have no doubt you have both gathered by now, to provide a bit of incentive for him to clean up his act, so to speak. I realize that the two of you are involved romantically, and, as Mr. Odair knows, I have not taken issue with that thus far. However…" He turned to address Finnick directly. "It has been very recently brought to my attention that Miss Cresta has very limited, if any, knowledge about what it is that you do for us here in the Capitol. Perhaps, since you have behaved so carelessly, you would like to share that information with her now."

Finnick felt his jaw drop in horror. No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He had been planning on telling Annie about what Snow made him do, but he had been waiting for the right time. His main focus as of late had been helping her overcome her own demons; he didn't want to add his into the mix. Not to mention—and he was ashamed beyond belief—that he was scared. He was terrified of what her reaction might be to something like that and the most cowardly part of him had only wanted to avoid the emotional trauma.

"I…I can't." He stammered.

Snow raised his eyebrows. "You can't?"

Finnick could feel his hands shaking. His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Snow gave a slight nod. "Very well, then. Miss Cresta will find out soon enough on her own, then, seeing as she'll be joining you."

"NO!" Finnick could feel the panic rising again. "No, please…please don't."

Snow leaned slightly forward over the desk and got his face so close that Finnick could smell the poison and roses on his breath. "Then tell her, Finnick." His voice was deadly calm.

Finnick swallowed the lump in his throat that had been threatening to suffocate him and turned toward Annie to give what was going to be the most impossible and horrific explanation of his life. She stared back at him, her beautiful green eyes filled with horror and confusion.

"Annie…" Finnick took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to find the right words. "It's true that I haven't been entirely honest with you about what I've been doing in the Capitol. You see…often times, when an…attractive teenager wins the Hunger Games, they're asked to…" he stopped, feeling like he was being engulfed in an emotion that was worse than fear or grief or anger. Then the words came tumbling out of him in an avalanche. "President Snow sells their bodies to Capitol citizens. The appointments are with people who hand over a fistful of cash to spend a night with the famous Hunger Games victors. That's what I do. That's where I've been going." He found that he couldn't continue any further and he turned away, covering his face with one hand and gripping the edge of the desk with the other, too ashamed to look her in the eye.

The silence that followed was one of the heaviest that he had ever experienced. He didn't think he would be able to turn around and see the look of stricken disgust that was sure to have appeared on Annie's face. He didn't want to see the awful, smug expression that undoubtedly was on President Snow's. He felt like he was drowning, and there was no lifeboat in the world that could save him.

"Very well," President Snow finally said. "Mr. Odair, you are to report immediately to my client to make up for your idiotic mistake last night. My secretary will give you the address on your way out. You will return back here when you're done and the two of you will be free to go."

Finnick, after a brief pause, slowly turned and began to trudge toward the door. As he made to leave the study, he dared to turn back and look at Annie. She faced away from him, her elbows on the desk, her face buried in her hands.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Here's chapter 4! It's not the longest or most exciting, but I have something big planned for the next one. So stay tuned and enjoy. :)

Annie remained frozen in her chair, her face still hidden in her hands, for several minutes after Snow ordered Finnick away. She felt like someone had replaced the blood coursing through her veins with cold poison. It was all she could do not to be sick as she replayed Finnick's story in her head over and over again. _"President Snow sells their bodies to Capitol citizens…that's where I've been going…"_

"Do you see now, Ms. Cresta?"

Annie jumped a bit. She had forgotten that Snow was still in the room. _Of course, he's going to sit here until Finnick comes back,_ she thought bitterly. Slowly removing her face from her hands, she forced her eyes to focus on his snakelike eyes and infuriatingly smug face. "Do I see what?" She whispered, still fighting to keep her composure.

"Why you were brought here. I'm sure you understand, now, what is at stake. I have no doubt that you see how _severe_ the consequences are for disobeying the orders of the Capitol."

Annie could do little more than glare at him. She was still entirely overwhelmed with the information she had just received. She could form no coherent thoughts independent of the unadulterated loathing that seemed to be devouring her from head to toe.

Snow raised an eyebrow at her, obviously expecting an answer. "Well?"

"Yes," Annie hissed finally.

"Good," Snow got up from his chair and sauntered over to the window, gazing outside with a thoughtful look on his face.

There was something Annie wanted to know. "Why not me?"

Snow turned around to face her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Finnick made it sound like he wasn't the only one this happens to. Why haven't you ever done it to me?"

Snow adopted the expression that Annie was now becoming familiar with, the one that meant he knew something that she didn't. "There a simple answer to that question," he replied matter-of-factly, as though they were discussing the weather. "I wanted to, believe me. It was discussed almost immediately after you were crowned victor of your Games. A young and attractive girl like yourself could have been quite an asset to the system." At this, Annie nearly gagged on her own disgust. Snow continued, "However, your dear Mr. Odair is a rather sharp young man and figured out quickly what was being talked about. So, he approached me and we struck a deal."

Annie, knowing exactly what Finnick had done, buried her face in her hands once again and whispered brokenly, "No…"

"Yes," Snow replied lightly. The fact that he was so obviously enjoying this whole ordeal made Annie feel even more sickened than she already was. "He agreed to take on additional clients in exchange for my allowing you to remain in District 4 more permanently. That is what we agreed upon."

A million different thoughts and emotions were crashing over Annie like a tidal wave. Everything made sense now. Finnick's behavior, his mysterious disappearances, and the events of the past few hours had all been brought into horrifying clarity. She found herself rather unable to make sense of anything that was going through her head, but there was one emotion that she was able to distinguish from all the others—a crushing hurt that Finnick hadn't told her about any of this.

"I do hope this doesn't cause any sort of rift between the two of you. Such a shame that would be…" Snow said.

Annie couldn't take it anymore. Removing her face from her hands, she shot a glare up at Panem's president that could have turned water to stone. "This is wrong," she said, trying valiantly to keep her voice from shaking. "What you're doing is disgusting and wrong. I would have thought you'd treat your precious victors with at least an ounce of respect." She bit her tongue to stop herself from continuing, not wanting to make a bad situation worse but wanting nothing more than to tell this sorry excuse for a man what she really thought of him.

Snow didn't bat an eyelash. Instead he gave a soft chuckle and replied, "Oh, dear, Ms. Cresta. Surely you've realized by now that not even a victor must pay their dues."

Annie had no rational response to that, so she simply looked away, resolving to remain stonily silent until Finnick returned. But she knew he was right. People survived the Hunger Games, but nobody ever won.

XxXxXxX

Finnick returned to Snow's mansion a few hours later, his clothes rumpled and his eyes haunted. Annie looked up at him as he came into the study, wanting to throw her arms around him and yet also wanting to scream herself hoarse at him. She did neither; instead, the two of them silently looked toward Snow, who had been busying himself by poring over a stack of papers behind his desk.

Snow looked from Annie to Finnick, his snakelike eyes calculating. "Well?" He said, apparently expecting something.

Annie looked to Finnick, confused. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out more cash than Annie had ever seen in her life, and laid it on Snow's desk, close to the stack of papers.

"It's all there?" Snow asked, his eyes still fixed on Finnick.

"Yes," Finnick replied. His voice was cracked with exhaustion.

"Very well," Snow leaned back in his chair, surveying the pair of victors one last time. "You're both free to return to District 4. I trust you understand that if such a thing as this is to happen again, I will not be so lenient."

Finnick nodded mutely. Annie didn't say a word.

Snow was quiet for a short time longer. Annie felt sure he was going to demand a verbal response. However, he merely gave them a curt nod and said, "You're dismissed."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I know it's a bit late, but here is the fifth and final chapter of The Smell of Roses! It would've been up sooner but I have final exams coming up and things have been pretty crazy. I'm quite proud of how this turned out and I hope people like it. Unfortunately, I won't be able to start much of anything else for a few weeks, but once finals are over, I definitely plan to start another project. In the meantime, I have a few more one shots up my sleeve. ;) A million thank yous to everyone who has favorited or followed or reviewed this story. Enjoy the finished product!

The gray, ominous clouds in the sky got thicker and thicker as the train approached District 4. Through the debilitating haze in his mind, Finnick noted how unusual that was—it hardly ever rained in District 4, and he didn't think he could remember the last time there was a thunderstorm.

Annie sat next to him in silence. As soon as they had gotten on the train to go home from the Capitol, he had tried to put a hand on her shoulder and formulate an apology. But to his horror, she had pushed his hand away (something she had never done before) and said, "Don't, Finnick. Just don't. I can't right now." Heartbroken, he had respected her wishes and taken his place a few feet away from her. Neither of them had spoken a word since.

When they finally arrived back in District 4, raindrops had started to create glistening patterns on the windows of the train car. As they got off the train and made to exit the train station, they heard a distant rumble of thunder and noticed people running every which way trying to get back to their houses. The drastic change in weather had apparently been unexpected.

"Come on," Annie said, speaking for the first time since they had left the Capitol. She began to lead Finnick back to his house in Victor's Village, which wasn't far from the train station. Even so, by the time they reached the street lined with immaculate houses that overlooked the now rough waters of District 4, the rain had picked up and they were both drenched from head to foot. Finnick clumsily dug his key out of his pocket once they were standing on the porch of his house and let Annie in before following her and shutting the door behind them.

Neither of them said anything right away. The elephant in the room was gigantic and obvious and had no chance of going away on its own. Finnick, steeling himself, took a deep breath and said, "Annie…"

Annie spun around to face him. "Finnick, I don't know what you think you're going to say—"

"Please!" Finnick held his hands up, cutting her off. "Please, Annie, just listen to me. You can say whatever you want once I've finished, just…please listen."

Annie sighed. "Alright."

"It started when I was sixteen," Finnick said. "There hasn't been a single moment where I haven't been entirely disgusted with Snow since then, but even the hatred I feel for him can't hold a candle to the hatred I feel for myself every time I have to leave you to go to the Capitol. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, and I know I have, and I can't tell you in words how incredibly sorry I am. I was going to tell you, Annie. I really was. But I just…I've never been able to find the right words, or the right time. I've been a coward, keeping it from you, and I know that. You have every right to be horrified and repulsed and I only hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me one day, although I certainly don't deserve it."

Annie was staring at him as though he had grown another head. Her jaw was slightly dropped and she had one eyebrow raised. She didn't say anything for a few seconds, but then, with a slight shake of her head, she wandered over to the back window and stared out at the stormy sea whose waves were advancing further and further up the shore.

Finnick felt his heart shattering into a million pieces. She didn't forgive him. Of course she didn't forgive him. He hadn't been expecting her to, but there had still been a sliver of hope inside him… "I understand." He said quietly, fighting the rising lump in his throat. A flash of lightning illuminated the house, followed by a crash of thunder.

Suddenly, Annie spun around and marched back over to him, wearing an incredulous expression that Finnick had never seen before. "You have got to be _kidding_ me, Finnick Odair!"

He stared at her, not sure how to respond. "I—I don't'—"

"You think I'm upset with you _because of what Snow's been making you do?_"

"Aren't you…?" Finnick had no idea what was going on.

"Finnick." Annie looked him straight in the eye. "Listen to me very closely. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's safe for me to say that I wouldn't be standing here today if it weren't for you. When I was fighting for my life in the arena, you were the reason I kept on going. When I had to go on that awful Victory Tour, you didn't leave my side once. And even now, when I become trapped inside my own head, you're still the only one who can bring me back to Earth. I trust you with my life, Finnick, and I'd like to think you do the same for me. I was hurt because you hadn't allowed me to help you through this, although, to be fair, I understand why. If you think I'm disgusted with anyone but Snow and the Capitol, then you are very severely mistaken."

Finnick's own jaw had dropped. He wasn't sure if he was hearing her correctly. She…didn't hate him? "You mean…you're not…" His voice seemed to have abandoned him.

"Finn, we do everything together. I hardly live in my own house anymore. We eat together, go on walks together, and spend practically every night together. This is no different. I'd sooner die than leave you because of something you have absolutely no control over. We face this _together,_ Finnick. I don't think there's any other way to do it." Annie's voice had started to shake and a few tears had escaped her eyes and made their way down her cheeks, mingling with the raindrops that hadn't yet dried.

Finnick hadn't realized that he was crying, too, until he reached up to wipe the tears off his own face. He couldn't think of anything to say to Annie that could properly express the love and gratitude he was feeling, so he did the only other thing he could think of: he walked the few feet of distance between them and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her still damp hair and wondering how he had gotten so lucky.

They finally broke apart after a good five minutes. "Hey, the rain stopped," Finnick said hoarsely, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand one more time.

"How's that for a metaphor?" Annie smiled, taking his hand. "I bet there's a rainbow and everything."

Finnick laughed. "There's nothing like symbolism. Hey, you know what? We should wander over to Mags' place. I showed up at her door in kind of a panic earlier and I'm sure she'll be interested to know that we're both still in one piece."

"Sounds good to me," Annie replied.

Hand in hand, the two of them made their way toward the front door, an aura of peace hanging over them like it hadn't in a very long time. Just as Finnick was reaching for the doorknob, he was stopped by Annie's hand on his arm.

"Finn, wait." Before he could turn to look at her, she had pushed him up against the wall and was kissing him passionately. Finnick returned it in full, suddenly feeling more alive than he had in days, even weeks.

When she finally broke the kiss, he smiled down at her. "What was that for?"

"Just because," she replied, smiling back. "Whoever steps in the most puddles on the way to Mags' house wins?"

Finnick laughed and pulled the door open. "You're on."


End file.
